FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The orc struggled futilely against his bondage, his rage burning through his naked body as walk forwards into a new room. He could smell the reek of kobolds, as well as strange grease and smokey scents. The familiar smell of iron wafted through his nostrils. Blood. But there was little he could do except shout profanities, spitting in all directions, pulling against the strong metal that kept him moving forward.

There was an iron collar locked around his neck, with cuffs for his hands so they stayed bound tightly either side on his face - keeping his arms useless. The chain between his ankle-cuffs was attached to a long powerful screw that slowly rotated, driving him forward as the torque dragging him with it. The metal-lined wooden doors closed behind him. This room - brighter and cleaner than most - was where the screw finally stopped turning, leaving him standing in front of a raised metal table.

He looked around, trying to find any tool that might help free him; perhaps a weapon, a bar for leverage, any sort of thing to help him out of this treacherous machinery. But there was a scarcity of anything in the room, nothing of the sort that would help his escape. In front of the orc was a table - angled towards him slightly and with a drainage system towards the bottom. Some large chains dangled out of reach above him. Deeper in the room were small doors - barely 4 foot tall. Kobold doors, no doubt.

One directly in front of him opened, and one of the scaly runts came out holding... holding some weird contraption..... A hook on a stick? The kobold quickly pushed it towards the orc's face. He winced, pulling to the side, turning as far as he could to avoid the blow - but there wasn't really much escape given the restraints. The hook "clicked" against his collar - and, the orc suddenly lost balance as the stick was yanked. He fell onto the metal slab, and felt himself dragged along until his feet left the ground - the ankle restraints now tight and digging into his flesh painfully as they remained connected to the giant screw. He was being stretched from collar to ankle-cuffs!

"Lemme go, you tiny fuckers!" he yelled, his collar now digging into the underside of his jaw as he was feeling the strain all along his spine, his teeth clenching as his chest scraped painfully against the table. The collar made breathing a challenge, digging into his windpipe as his cries slowly became more hoarse. Through shallower breaths, "I'll. Fuckin'... skin you all!"

All that greeted him in response was the patter of small scaly feet around the room, and looming shadows cast by their bodies and the lights above him. He tried to twist to see them, hearing them at his sides and behind him. None however approached his eyeline. He could feel their pesky little claws, running over his skin - lightly exploring every bit of his body, ignoring his privacy. As if testing his muscles, a methodical search through as if examining a product, or perhaps just teasing him. The ear-grinding yaps of the kobolds sounded like laughter.

"GET OFF, YOU FUCKING - ARRGH!"

A pair of blades made a sickening sound, slicing through the back of ankles with one stroke each. The pain made him scream out. As a hunter, he knew that type of cut: Hamstringing. The perfect way to keep something in place, limiting all movements with a cut along the tendon. The ankle was an easy place to slice, but surprisingly effective. A few more slices followed along the sides of his body, as the knives made more connections at his elbows. The slices easily severed the tendons in his forearm. He could feel his struggles becoming more frail as he lost control of anything in his arms. A few more slices were made right below his knee, slicing along the bottom side of his thigh, right along his glutes, tearing easily through the orc's skin, making his legs lie useless on the slab.

"FIGHT ME! YOU FUCKERS, you think I'll let you cripple me!"

But his words were ignored, or not understood. And in his bondage and sliced up state, he was unable to act. His heart beat louder in his ears as he realised how much danger he was in, knowing what he would do next to prey he incapacitated like this.

He could feel blood running down his toes and hear it dripping onto the stone floor, the stench of his own blood drowning out the greasy kobold scents. Turning his head slightly, he could see it seep from the gashes in his arm, blood oozing out, puddling below him.

"I'll... I'll kill you all..." he said, his voice now quivering with fear, his brave facade slowly fading away as more and more of his own blood covers his body. This was the first time he truly felt helpless. Never before had his stature been reduced to "prey". For the first time in his life, he feared dying. There was no honour to this death, no final battle with a fierce rival, or saving others of his clan, no heroic tale that would be written for him. They would just slowly slice him apart, surrounded by unyielding metal and sharp knives. Their yaps making grotesque music with his flesh in the strange room. His final moment in life was being treated as meat.

He snapped back from his thoughts as he felt claws dragging over his sensitive flesh. He could feel each calculated touch, a finger running along the side of his spine, tracing across his shoulder blades, another ending across his thighs. Something rested against the back of his knees - a blade edge with some weight behind it. Without warning, hooks pierced along the insides of his legs, the tips digging their own paths straight through the muscles.

Similar hooks slipped through the crooks of his elbows, too. He noticed out of the corner of his eyes, the chained hooks connected to pulleys. When the kobold started turning, each cruel click caused the hooks to pull tighter. He could feel the weakened muscles stretch, and his shoulders taking the strain. It was too much! His eyes squeezed closed as he tried to pull his arms inward as best he could. Blood sprayed from the deep gashes as the orc helplessly tried to stop the inevitable - but two wet pops filled his ears as he heard the dislocation of his humerus bones. The crippled greenskin shrieked in pain, feeling the bones completely shift out of alignment. The pain didn't stop there, as sharp blades dug into his back carving below his shoulder-blades. Scaled hands sliced all the way through the muscle, ligaments and tendons.. His eyes went wide, all screams failing as he gasped from the sensation. The flashes of pain as nerves were cut - then the pain fading to nothing.

His arms were numb, except for the stinging sensation near the top. His head turned to the side, but could see only the bloody stumps left attached to his torso. His hard-earned muscular arms were gone, substituted with empty space and pure red. . He could see his hands, still locked to the collar and still in front of him, but they were no longer under his control. He turned to look straight ahead, his familiar fingers curled and grazed his tusk-tips. All the bits were there; his green wrists were in front of him. He could look along the full length of his arms as they lay in front of him and down towards the floor. He could see the blood leaking from his mighty biceps - dangling almost 2 feet away from him. They ended just above the ground.

The weight at his knees increased, eventually giving way as the blade cleaved through his legs - but it didn't feel as painful as expected, the lingering pain from his severed arms masking some of the underlying pain.

His feet no longer felt the cold from walking the stone floors of the factory. He sucked in a great lungful of air and tried to roll onto his back - but got no leverage. Instead his broken body squirming on the slab and pulling on the hooks that held it, agitating the wounds and leaking more blood across the metal surface. He couldn't bend his legs. He couldn't shift his arms. He couldn't move.

The smell of blood, his blood, filled his nose... and a new scent mingled in. Piss - at some point during the ordeal, his bladder had emptied itself. The room spun as his vision slowly blurred. The light seemed to be fading. He exhaled. Inhaled again. Time slowed to a crawl. The gap between heartbeats was growing larger. Each pump sounded like it took seconds in his ears. The sensation of the blades slicing his body, the kobold hands and knives digging around through the gore, uncaring of what sorts of torment it was bringing him - they faded too. They were splitting apart muscles in his thighs, the knife turning upwards as it ran beside his lower spine, digging upwards. He could hear the thumps as a cleaver chopped through bone. Through his blurred gaze, his eyes focused on a face below him. Two cold, reptilian eyes looked back, its tongue flickering in and out. Suddenly, his head was jerked to the side and a blade dug into his neck, slicing through his carotid arteries. He stared at the metal-lined wall, able to hear blood slosh in rhythm with his heart, each wave of blood bathing his chest in line with the heavy beating banging in his ears. His heart slowly became more and more erratic. The orc slowly lost sensation of the world around him, slipping away... the final few heartbeats are the last thing he heard.